


Morning Routine

by cel522



Category: Hidden Block (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 00:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20105845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cel522/pseuds/cel522
Summary: There was another regular though. Ian didn’t know him very well, but every day since probably the first month of the semester, the same guy came through like clockwork. He’d walk through the door, flash a friendly smile towards Ian, walk towards the rack of chips, ask “How much are these?” To which Ian would reply “$1.50.”





	Morning Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if it's a little wordy, haven't written fic in like years so I'm stretchin my legs a little

Mornings like these were what made working the student store almost bearable for Ian. They were slow, giving him plenty of time to wake up behind the counter before students poured in from their afternoon classes. It was easy to get lost in the soft grey light coming from the early sky, some choice music playing through his headphones. Every now and then he’d get a frazzled English major taking an early class, desperate for coffee, or some stoic math major or professor, and sometimes he’d get morning people.

They were exhausting --- the kind of people who decide they would just love a long conversation about their recent projects or something with this stranger behind the counter instead of just buying their Snickers and leaving like everybody else --- and it really tried his patience when they would stand in line minutes after paying, talking at him.

It was nothing against them personally, just the idea of them. It was unnerving how bubbly they could be while everyone around them looked like zombies, almost sadistic how they would sap the energy from Ian and still ask him how much a can of double espresso cost. There were some morning people he didn’t mind though.

There was Emily, a blonde bubble of energy who walked in with her other friend --- Hunter, he thinks she said once --- who had dark circles under his lids and a look of solemn understanding whenever he met eyes with Ian. She would talk about her favorite musicals and never spent too much time before her friend ushered her towards the door. Lauren was fresh out of high school and was only a morning person in concept, exhausted through her energetic demeanor. Michael, one of the professors in the art department, was just a pleasant guy that Ian would love to have a conversation with if he came in at literally any other time than morning.

There was another regular though. Ian didn’t know him very well, but every day since probably the first month of the semester, the same guy came through like clockwork. He’d walk through the door, flash a friendly smile towards Ian, walk towards the rack of chips, ask “How much are these?” To which Ian would reply “$1.50,” he’d make his way to the fridge, pretend to think for a moment before grabbing the same thing he always does, ask again “How much for this?” To which Ian would reply “$5.00,” and he’d make his way to the counter, comment on the weather as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and thumbed through. It was always one dollar rounded up, and he’d always plunk his change in the small tip jar as he smiled his way out the door before Ian could even get out a “Thank you, have a nice day.”

It was almost mesmerizing how locked in he was to this routine, only ever really stalling if some exhausted sucker was standing in front of his target, in which case he’d patiently wait and pretend to look over his options. On a rare occasion, the boy would pick out a different flavor of chips or drink. These days, Ian almost has a mind to make a comment, perhaps a light jab like “Trying something different today huh?” or “Am I seeing things right? Something new?”

He never does, of course, because frankly that sounds terrifying and embarrassing and absolutely lame. What if he thinks you’re making fun of him, like what if there’s a reason he chooses the same thing every day. Or what if he just thinks you’re annoying, you don’t even know him and you’re trying to comment on his life? He probably doesn’t even know your name, you don’t even know his. He acts more like a normal customer than most of these people and you’re trying to pick apart the reason why? You’re being stupid and weird and it’s probably a bit creepy that you even noticed this about him.

How would he even respond to something like that? If all went wrong he might pause and say “What? Have you been watching me? Creep,” and then leave. If all went well he might laugh and give out a “Oh yeah, just mixing things up y’know?” and then leave. What would be the ideal outcome?

A name perhaps? Ian had seen this boy come and go through the door countless times, feigning familiarity the way someone does when they’re getting something from a cashier or clerk. He’s watched him flash a brilliant smile, seen his eyes carefully scanning through everything on the shelves, heard his voice sing out from behind the shelves.

So Ian was totally smitten for this man he knew entirely nothing about, and he was okay with that! At least, he’d tell himself he was. He began to fiddle with his hair, pulling it back and tying it up in a bun to give him something to think about that wasn’t this mystery man, maybe pulling a bit harder than necessary when his thoughts started drifting back to him. Once the bun was as complete as he was willing to make it, he lamented the loss of something to busy himself with before he heard something placed on the counter in front of him.

He put on his retail face and looked up to meet the customer’s eyes.  
Somehow he was so caught up in his mental turmoil, he managed to completely tune out him coming in and either automatically responded to his questions of price or completely ignored them and he wasn’t sure which would be more embarrassing.

“Hi!” Ian said, trying, just, so hard not to bite the inside of his cheeks.

“Hey!” The man beamed back at him, “Just these. Gosh the breeze is so nice out there you just gotta step outside man.”

Ian looked down at the counter, already with the man’s usual price in mind. But when his eyes landed on the objects,he had to scrub that thought away.  
He was getting something new.

The drink was the same as his usual, the chips, though a different flavor, were the same brand and price. But one thing stuck out, in front of the rest, a pack of mints.

Ian hoped the shock wasn’t evident on his face as he looked up at the man.  
This was his chance to break the routine.

“These as well?”

“Yeah, I tried asking how much but I guess you must not have heard me,” he ended his sentence with an awkward chuckle.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I was zoning out.” Ian could feel his face heating up.

“It’s no problem, I figured I probably have enough for it.”

Ian began taking the items under the scanner, he could do the math in his head if he weren’t so flustered. But this is the moment he was waiting for, he has to say something, anything.

“So, uh… Trying something different today, huh?” God it sounded so terrible out loud, he wanted to punch himself. He just had to keep his eyes down or he’d probably die.

“Yeah, I guess we both are!” His smile painted his words.

Ian’s confusion must have read as he looked up, because the man gestured to his hair making vague sounds that sounded like ’uh,’ ‘because,’ and ‘buns…’

Ian felt his head, his mind suddenly returning to him as he could feel his hair messily tied back.

“Oh! Yeah, I just have to do something with my hands when I’m stressed out, y’know. Alright, that’ll be $8.50.”

“Gotcha,” He pulled a five and four ones from his wallet, suspiciously quick.

Once he got his 50 cents change, he promptly dropped it in the tip jar and grabbed his things, ready to leave. Ian had to act fast.

“Hey!”

“Hm?” the boy looked back at him.

Ian didn’t really know what to do at this point.

“Uh, I’m Ian by the way. I’ve just, uh, seen you come in and out a lot and all…”

“I’m Jeff! It’s nice to finally meet you I guess.” He said with a laugh

They stood for a brief moment, not knowing where to go next.

“Do you have a class or something?”

Jeff looked at his watch, “Not for a bit, if you want some company.”

God yes, dear god, Ian definitely wanted him to stay.

“Yeah sure man, if you want to hang around.”

“Alrighty then!” He placed his items back on the counter, closer to the side so he could swipe it back up if any customer came through.

“So uh, what class do you have?” Ian asked.

“Digital production, I’m a Film Radio TV major.”

“Oh no way me too.”

“Not to sound like a total creeper but I’ve seen you around the building, I’ve just never said anything since we haven’t really talked y’know?” Jeff gave a light laugh

“Trust me you’re fine.”

They fell back into a bit of silence, music, barely audible, playing through Ian’s headphones resting on his neck. Jeff was eating his chips and watching the clouds outside, Ian was watching the people who passed by, more of them seemed awake than earlier.

As Jeff opened his drink, Ian decided it was time to find out the truth.

“So why do you always get the same thing?”

“Hm? Oh, I just like it y’know? Why spend money on something I might not like.”

“True, but that doesn’t really explain the routine.”

“Routine?” crap, Ian’s a creep.

“Uh…” Well, there’s no going back now, “Um, well, you always get the same thing, but you act like you’ll choose something else, and like, you’ll ask for the price every day.”

Jeff’s face began to turn red and he turned to look out the window once more.

“Am I that predictable?” He let out an awkward laugh at his own joke.

Ian nervously chuckled along with him, not really knowing what else to do, embarrassment was not one of the outcomes he imagined.

“I guess I’m the creeper huh?” Ian joked.

“Hah, nah it’s still me…” Jeff finished off his drink, “uh, the reason I guess, for coming in so much, is because I always wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Ian had a hard time processing this, “Um, why didn’t you?”

“Well you always looked so tired,” of course, “and I wasn’t really sure how to start y’know, and I figured I would just be annoying you when you could be listening to music or something instead. Sorry hah.”

“No! No, you’re fine, I just have one of those faces y’know.” Ian was quick to ease his doubts, “And morning people can drain me a bit, but I really enjoy the company. Gets kinda boring when no one’s passing through.”

“I can imagine.”

“Yeah.” Ian really took in the sight of Jeff, his hair falling across his face, his jawline, god, his jawline, and the way his stubble looked so effortless, yet so clean. Their eyes met and the intensity he felt in that brief moment made his face hot. “So why would you want to talk to a tired, annoyed, creepy stranger like me?”

“Well, uh…” Jeff started to speak, and suddenly there was a loud ringing as the bell above the door chimed and a small group of people filtered in.

“Ah crap, rush is starting, you might wanna get outta here.” Ian sighed.

“Got it,” Jeff grabbed the empty chip bag and can, tossing them in the small bins near the door, “Oh! By the way, Ian, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say, I really like your hair like that, it looks nice.” The hint of red on his cheeks was quite telling.

Ian’s hand instinctively went to brush stray hairs behind his ears

“Oh, thanks! I also like your… uh… face.”

“Thanks!” He took the botched compliment with grace and a laugh and made his way towards the door.

Ian looked again to the counter with a smile on his face, then he noticed something.

“Oh shit. Jeff! Wait, your mints!”

The other man turned to face him, momentary confusion morphing into a radiant smile as he looked to Ian.

“Hold on to them for me, you’ll see me tomorrow right?”

Ian had to smile, it was infectious.

“Right.”

With that, Jeff walked outside, looked back into the student store with a small wave and wandered off deeper into the campus.

Ian turned away from the window and pocketed the mints, ready to face the rush with a newfound energy.

Maybe morning people aren’t too bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh I haven't written in ages, it felt good to plunk something out. Sorry if any grammatical, spelling, or anything else errors popped out at you. This was mostly written at 5am last night from a random flash of inspo  
Tell me what you think, I'd love to hear what you enjoyed, what you didn't enjoy, or how I could improve! Or just tell me about your day!


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